


From One to A Hundred

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Incubus!Viktor, Lemon, M/M, Pole Dancing, Smut, basically chapter 1 is the banquet scene rewritten whoops, incubus au, lap dance, sorry for slow updates!!, tags will be added as this updates fyi, yuri on ice spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-21 22:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9569555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Hey, Viktor~ I got'ta great idea! If I... If I win this dance off, you should come to Hasetsu and be my coach! C'mon, be my coach, Viktooor!!"Viktor could only stare at him, watch those chocolate-colored eyes shine with something alike to a drunken epiphany, take in those dark locks of disheveled hair that framed his flushed face beautifully.ー * ーViktor Nikiforov, a man famous worldwide for his skating, had a secret. A secret that the press hadn't and wouldn't ever discover, a secret that fans had speculated and fantasized about for years but never believed. But how long can Viktor hide the fact that he's an Incubus from the man he's trying to seduce?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AAAA okay! So this fanfic is hopefully gonna be my main focus right now - althought the updates will probably take forever, because... y'know, school exists. SO! with that being said, I'd like to ask if people could be patient with me? I get how shitty it is to wait for a fanfic to update, believe me, so I will try my best!
> 
> Anyways, This chapter takes place at the banquet mentioned in episode 10. enjoy!! feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Not beta-read, but i read it myself multiple times so i hope it's okay!

In most areas, Incubi were extremely frowned upon. They were viewed as monsters who wanted nothing other than sex, sex, and - you guessed it - more sex. Most people saw them as a bad omen. Which was understandable, considering they  _ were _ demons.

 

But it’s not like all Incubi were sex-driven creatures. Either that, or Viktor was just a special case.

 

Yep, you heard that right; Viktor Nikiforov, five-time Grand Prix gold medalist, was an Incubus. The man who had women - and men -  _ craving _ him. But no, not once had he or would he ever take advantage of one of his fans, even if it was for his own benefit. That didn’t mean he didn’t have a strong sexual drive, not at all. He  _ definitely _ had one. But he was famous, and he didn’t want to spend his life sleeping with strangers.

 

It was rare for an Incubus to want to engage in a long-term relationship with a human. Practically unheard of, in fact. Though, again, it was quite obvious that Viktor wasn’t like a regular Incubus. If he was going to engage in sexual activity, he wanted a consistent partner who he had an emotional connection with. 

 

But, the thing was, Viktor  _ was _ getting a bit desperate. 

 

The door to the hotel room creaked open slowly, and he poked his head in through the crack. His eyes landed quickly on the brown ball of fluff curled on his bed. Grinning, Viktor slipped fully into the room, greeted by the lazy lift of the poodle’s head.

 

“Makkachin, I’m back!” He greeted enthusiastically, and was acknowledged with an equally joyful bark. The dog scrambled out of the bundled up covers, bounding over to his owner. Viktor caught the poodle in his arms, bringing him into a large hug.

 

“Makka, look!” Pulling away, Viktor lifted the gold medal that hung around his neck. “Fifth one in a row! Isn’t that great?”

 

Another cheerful bark. Despite the victory, his smile slowly faded, and his expression turned the slightest bit melancholy. Electric blue eyes lowered, watching his fingers run through the brown fur.

 

“Well, that sure is bittersweet. Another win, but no one to celebrate with.” He stroked the curled fur slowly, sighing. “That doesn’t matter though, does it? I’ve got you! Sure, you don’t understand what ice skating really is, but…”

 

Another bark, but this time it was lower, and more drawn out. Viktor chuckled quietly, ruffling the dog’s soft fur once more before rising to his feet.

 

“Well, I’ve got to get to the banquet soon. I’ll be back in a few hours, alright?” He moved to his closet, dressing into a suit quickly before making his way out of the hotel. He couldn’t be late. 

 

He never liked the banquet much. For the most part, it was just people getting drunk and the remaining sober people talking stiffly. Viktor would much rather be home, cuddling with Makkachin, but Yakov would have him dead if he even considered not going. So, he supposed he could sacrifice a few hours of his night to go to the celebration.

 

His mind was on other things besides the banquet, though. Like next season. What should he do next? Sure, he adored ice skating; it was his passion, his substitute for life and love. But these past five years - no, his entire  _ career _ up to this point - had felt more like a never ending cycle. There’s a small chance of him surprising anyone by this point.

 

Staring up at the dimming sky from the car window didn’t give him any answers whatsoever. The few stars that had begun to show just hung in the sky, watching down on everyone who resided below.

 

Sometimes, though he didn’t like to think of it, he felt a little lonely. Not immensely; he had Makkachin. But, when he was at the ice rink at two in the morning, running on a large mug of coffee and sheer determination, he couldn’t help but wonder if it all was really worth it. Ice skating was his life, it was what he loved and worked for all of these strenuous years. Though, every now and then, the fame just didn’t seem all that worth the struggle and solitude.

 

Viktor loved people. He loved talking to people and laughing with people and just _being_ with _someone,_ _anyone_. But he felt the slightest bit distanced from everyone else. Almost like the stars in the sky.

 

“Mr. Nikiforov, we’re almost there,” the man driving had informed him at some point, startling the Russian man. How long had he just been sitting there?

 

“Oh. Spasibo,” he had replied with a smile.

 

Yakov had basically forced Viktor to have his own personal driver. He had his own license, and knew how to drive, yes; but, according to his coach, he was the ‘ _ worst driver he had ever met’.  _ He was pretty sure the older man was just overreacting.

 

The minute he had exited the vehicle, Mila met him at the door, grinning at him like usual. He approached her, waving, and her smile became a smirk.

 

“I knew you’d make it! So, think you’ll get lucky tonight? I think I will, honestly.” The woman winked, wiggling her eyebrows slightly. Viktor had to stifle a laugh; she was just too much. 

 

“It does feel like this year’s banquet will be our lucky nights,” he suggested enthusiastically, laughing. He’d learn one thing about Mila during the time they spent together; if you agreed with her, she shut up. 

 

“Definitely. Yuri’s already inside, let’s hurry up before he kicks someone or something.” Agreeing with her for once, Viktor nodded and the two advanced into the large building.

 

At least this banquet had Yuri. Viktor felt a bit more comfortable speaking with him - despite the boy being a good amount younger than him. Viktor didn’t see the problem, though. Hanging out with a fourteen-year-old at a party filled with adults and champagne didn’t make him seem  _ that _ lonely. He was just, uh… Chaperoning? Babysitting? Sure.

 

The first few minutes of the banquet was pretty boring. Mila was on her third glass of champagne, but other than that, everything felt so rigid. 

 

And, at some point, Celestino came in with his own skater attached to him by the hip. Not literally, of course - but it was obvious to everyone that the boy was uncomfortable. 

 

What was his name again? He… He shared a name with Yuri, right?

 

Katsuki Yuuri? That sounded just about right. Katsuki Yuuri was following around Celestino for the first five or so minutes. Until Yuuri was basically forced on his own when he had left to go stand with the other coaches. 

 

It was rude to stare, but could Viktor really help himself? He didn’t even expect the Japanese represent to show up; he seemed too introverted. Extremely introverted. Viktor mentally scolded Celestino - if  _ he _ was Yuuri’s coach, he wouldn’t try and force the poor guy into social situations like these without preparation. And, within ten minutes of being abandoned to stand all by his lonesome, Viktor noticed that he had shuffled towards one of the tables which held the drinks. 

 

Watching the younger skater from the corner of his eye, Viktor couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on in the ravenette’s head. Was he going to try and relax with a glass of champagne?

 

...Or two glasses? Three, four, five? Wasn’t that a bit overboard? Oh, but no, it didn’t stop there; and after he hit glass number ten Viktor considered going over and getting him to stop before he made himself sick. 

 

But he never did get sick. And Viktor was almost relieved when Yuuri had stopped at sixteen glasses. Well, he didn’t exactly  _ stop _ \- he was refused any more. But, Yuuri didn’t seem to mind; actually, Viktor would be surprised if he was even able to think coherently by that point.

 

Within the span of ten or fifteen minutes, Mila had convinced the D.J to turn up the music, and things had certainly taken a shocking turn. Katsuki Yuuri, the Japanese man who was sulking just half an hour earlier, had become someone different. Someone  _ completely _ different. And Viktor wouldn’t possibly ever forgive himself if he didn’t record any of what would be happening; so within seconds after seeing the man stumble onto the dance floor, he had whipped his cell phone out. 

 

And it had only gotten better when Yuuri had slurred on about a dance off with Yuri - and the blonde, scowling, bolted onto the dance floor in reply. 

 

_ There’s no way this could get any better _ , Viktor had concluded, making sure to take each picture at the best angle. This was too great.

 

Oh, but it  _ could _ get better. And it did.

 

At some point, Viktor had tossed his phone hurriedly at Yuri, and joined Yuuri on the dancefloor, fed up with just watching. At this point, did morals even matter? Not at all. 

 

And he danced -  _ they _ danced. This man that he had rarely spoken to, who had silently ignored his offer for a photo, was drunk off his ass, pressing against Viktor and  _ laughing _ with him. They had stumbled, hand in hand, not having a single clue what they were even  _ trying _ to do but being in sync anyways. 

 

Viktor was even a bit upset when Chris had ushered Yuuri away for a moment, muttering something to him. And he was apparently thrilled by the idea. Chris, who seemed quite satisfied with himself, had sauntered off to go get something. Yuuri was quick to approach Viktor once more.

 

With his jacket abandoned somewhere on the ground, white shirt unbuttoned and slipping from his shoulders, and his tie wrapped around his forehead sloppily, he stood before Viktor confidently. Viktor, on the other hand, wasn’t even given a warning as the Japanese man flung himself right onto him. Arms wrapped tightly around himself, Viktor couldn’t do much more than stare wide-eyed at the younger. 

 

“Viiiiiktoooor~” He breathed out, pressing up against him -  _ grinding _ against him. Those large brown eyes stared up at him, watching him as Yuuri moved against him so…  _ Inappropriately _ . “Hey,  _ Viktor _ ~ I got’ta great idea! If I… If I win this dance off, you should come to Hasetsu and be my coach! C’mon, be my coach, Viktooor!!”

 

Viktor could only stare at him, watch those chocolate-colored eyes shine with something alike to a drunken epiphany, take in those dark locks of disheveled hair that framed his flushed face beautifully. 

 

Though, Chris soon beckoned Yuuri to come over, and Viktor was left feeling empty and slightly aroused. It was a good thing that he had left, though - Viktor’s instincts as an Incubus probably would have gone haywire if he had been in such an intimate position with him for much longer.

 

Yuri retreated back to Viktor’s side, watching Chris with a rather horrified expression. “Am I old enough to see this shit?” The teenager asked, eyeing the pole that Chris was setting up in record speed.

 

_ Pole dancing _ .

 

“I… Don’t know.” Viktor had just shrugged, almost laughing as Chris didn’t hesitate in stripping down to nothing but his undergarments. Yuri looked as if he was about to say  _ fuck it _ and leave the banquet; at least, until he noticed Yuuri also pulling his shirt off carelessly, tossing it aside.

 

“Fucking hell,” Yuri muttered, and Viktor had just barely caught it before the blonde went off to a good angle for pictures. Viktor followed suit shortly, biting at his inner cheek.

 

God, that Japanese man had some  _ nice fucking legs _ . Those thighs had to have been a gift sent by God himself - there was just no other explanation. 

 

He really was holding himself up on that pole with ease. Viktor could only imagine the strength that took. Why  _ did _ Yuuri know these moves, anyways? Viktor certainly wasn’t very well-versed in this area, and he was one of the top skaters in the world.

 

He expected this from Chris, but from Yuuri? Sure, Viktor didn’t know him well, but…

 

He just seemed too….  _ Innocent _ ?

 

After Yuri got himself more than enough photos on both his own and Viktor’s phone, the two found their way to Celestino. It was obvious that Yuuri needed to get to his hotel as soon as possible, before things escalated further.

 

“Celestino?” Viktor called, loud enough to be heard over the music. Said coach turned in his direction, greeting him with a nervous smile.

 

“Well, if it isn’t Viktor Nikiforov! Listen, I-”

 

“Yuri and I will take your skater to the hotel. Could we please have the room key and number?” Viktor asked - though it came off more as a demand - and was relieved when Celestino didn’t question anything. He probably didn’t want Yuuri to embarrass himself any further either. He just handed the key over, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’.

 

“Spasibo! Come on Yuri, let’s get him back to the hotel!” Waving goodbye to Celestino, Viktor gathered up Yuuri while Yuri grabbed his clothes. The two Russians worked at getting the unstable male dressed, and helped him out of the building.

 

He was barely awake, both Yuri and Viktor could see that. His footing was even worse than it had previously been, and he didn’t even bother trying to walk - he just let Viktor and Yuri do all the work, holding onto them while muttering incoherently. 

 

“This asshole definitely owes me,” Yuri finally broke the silence, voice more bitter than the frosty air surrounding them. Viktor chuckled, adjusting his grip on Yuuri as he glanced up at the sky. Strangely enough, it was a clear night; no clouds, no fog, nothing. It was almost relaxing, and would have been if he didn’t have an awfully cute drunk man hanging off his shoulder who had grinded on him earlier. 

 

“I just hope he doesn’t end up getting alcohol poisoning. Maybe one of us should stay with him?” He suggested, looking at Yuuri worriedly, and was caught off guard when the dark-haired male looked back up at him with a bright smile. Viktor smiled back, despite feeling exhausted, because how could he not? The reciprocation seemed to spark something in Yuuri; within seconds he yanked himself away from Yuri (who let out an angry grunt in response), and flung himself full force into Viktor while they had been walking. The platinum-haired skater just barely kept himself - and Yuuri - steady, stumbling a bit and instinctively clutching the shorter to himself. Good thing not many people were walking around so late at night.

 

“Viiiiiiktoooor..,” He looked up at the Russian man and, for a moment, their eyes met and Viktor felt  _ something _ . He couldn’t identify what that was, but he liked it. He liked it a lot. 

 

“Yes, Yuuri?” Viktor could practically hear Yuri’s disgust at his flirty-sounding response - and the elder man felt bad for the younger. He must have felt left out!

 

“I’m sleeeeeeeeeeeepy…” 

 

“Let’s get you to sleep, then. The hotel is only across the street now, come one.” Yuuri seemed to be swayed by that, and he latched onto Viktor once more. His right arm reached for Yuri, and the blonde scowled before begrudgingly helping to support him. 

 

They arrived at his room as quick as possible, after receiving some stares and whispers from the people who were, for some reason, awake at nearly two in the morning. The three settled in Yuuri’s hotel room - Viktor seated on a wooden chair in the corner, Yuri sitting on a leather seat, and Yuuri sprawled out on the mattress. 

 

“This is ridiculous,” Yuri groaned, and Viktor just chuckled. 

 

“Or so you say.”

 

“Put a sock in it, old man.”

 

Viktor didn’t bother retaliating; he wasn’t in the mood to bicker with a fourteen year old. He had other things to think about. More important things.

 

“I’m going to head down to the bathroom and grab food on my way back. Want anything?” Yuri asked, standing up and glancing down at the other male.

 

“Grab Yuuri some food. Tomorrow morning he’ll probably be hungry after not eating tonight.” The blonde just rolled his eyes before leaving, probably too tired to argue by that point. Viktor couldn’t agree more.

 

Not even two minutes after Yuri left, he noticed the brunette began to stir. Shouldn’t he be completely drained from everything that had happened that night?

 

“Viktoor?” He called out, slightly less slurred but still blantly intoxicated. “What’re you doing in.. in MY room?” 

 

“Just relaxing, and making sure you’re alright,” Viktor replied gently. 

 

“Viktor…. Your eyes, y’know..” He trailed off for a moment, gazing at Viktor. “Th-they’re preeeeeetty.”

 

“Oh? Pretty, eh?”

 

“Yu-huh! Liiike…” He paused, chewing his bottom lip, trying to search through his clouded mind for the correct words. “ICE! They remind me of the ice! Such a pretty cooolor, I could look at them aaaall daaay…” 

 

Viktor knew that Yuuri was under the influence of champagne, but a part inside of him hoped those were his true thoughts. 

 

“V-Viiiktor, can I try somethin’ with you? Pleeeease?” Those chocolate colored eyes looked up at his own pleadingly, and although Viktor knew he should say no and make Yuuri sleep… He didn’t want to upset him. “It’ll be quick, promise! I, uhhh, just have somethin’ that I wanted to try at the-” he hiccupped, “-the banquet, buuut… The banquet is all gone now!” Viktor mused on how adorable he sounded while tipsy, but didn’t interrupt. “It’ll be over even before blondie comes back! Mnn, Well… Probably.”

 

“Ah… Alright, but after you do whatever it is you want to, promise me you’ll sleep. Got it?”

 

“Mnn… N’yeah, oookayy! It’s a deal!” Yuuri sang happily, sitting straight and grinning down at the older male. “Okie-dokie, Viktoor~ I haven’t done this sinceee... I was in Detroit, so sorry if I’m a bit rusty..” 

 

Before Viktor even began guessing what exactly Yuuri was planning, strong hands shoved his shoulders back against the wooden chair. Being surprised by the sudden action, he let out a breathy gasp. 

 

“Shh,” Yuuri spoke in a completely different manner than he had that whole night; sure, he was obviously still drunk off his ass, but, somehow, became so much more… _ Alluring _ ?

 

Viktor prayed that he would be able to control himself. Just seeing that look in Yuuri’s eyes alone set off a flame of arousal in his lower stomach, something he couldn’t prevent. 

 

The Japanese male smirked for a moment, before bringing a finger towards Viktor’s chin, guiding his gaze until they locked eyes. Never breaking eye contact, Yuuri slowly wrapped a leg around the back of the chair, taking a seat on Viktor’s lap while doing so. The other leg followed suit, and they were pressed against each other for the hundredth time that night. Though, this time, they were alone.  _ Dangerous _ , Viktor concluded. This was very dangerous.

 

It was nearly impossible to think, however, after feeling Yuuri press down against his waist. Viktor’s hands flew down to clutch at the younger’s hips, fingers clutching at his shirt in desperation. His mind was getting clouded with lust, with desire, this was  _ bad _ . He didn’t know how much longer he could last with this perfect man hovering over him, incredibly sculpted thighs pressing against Viktor’s own. He choked down the moans that rose from his throat and chest, never once daring to look away from the mesmerizing skater right before him. 

 

Viktor was pissed off, yet simultaneously relieved, when a loud kick was delivered to the outside of their door. The two separated as quickly as they could will themselves to, and Viktor went for the door while Yuuri went for the bed, collapsing once again. 

 

He opened the door, being greeted by an annoyed Yuri. After seeing Viktor, the shorter’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “Tch. Took you long enough. We’ve got to head back to our rooms soon too, y’know.”

 

“I know,” Viktor replied, voice still a bit breathy. Yuri thrusted a warm container towards him.

 

“I grabbed this for that moron. He better be thankful in the morning.” Viktor placed it on a table, and scribbled out a small note with instructions on re-heating it before relocating it in the fridge instead. 

 

“Say goodbye to the Sleeping fuckin’ Beauty over there, because I want to sleep already,” Yuri demanded. 

  
“Fair enough.” With that, Viktor approached Yuuri’s unconscious body, placing a light kiss on his forehead before setting off to his own hotel room. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY! so i was hoping to get this posted by the end of the weekend, and it JUST turned 12AM here. does that count? lmaoo
> 
> ANYWAYS.. So. I have a few Viktuuri fics planned. an assassin AU, a Black Butler crossover (in a victorian setting!), and an actor AU. Which one of those would you like for me to focus on? or, do you want me to keep this fic as my main priority? please let me know! 
> 
> agh,,, this chapter came out really short. It's only one third the size of the last one. sorry! the end might feel sorta rushed but that's because my anxiety on reaching my own deadline got to me, and i rushed myself. whoops! i'll make sure the next chappy is longer and not so rushed..!
> 
> speaking of which, the next chappy is where things are gonna speed up and get more interesting, so don't worry! anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

From that night onward, contrary to what Viktor wanted to believe, things had only gone downhill. Not only was he beginning to feel sick of his skating career - which seemed more like a broken record than anything - but now he had to bear with this sickening yearning. He wasn’t even able to consider doing anything even remotely romantic  _ or _ sexual with anyone without the name Katsuki Yuuri tugging right at the front of his mind. Yuuri was such a simple man, viewed by most people as rather average, and yet Viktor still couldn’t get the thought of the ravenette out of his head. Even as he skated, nearly a year after the banquet, he would get lost in thoughts about the younger male. Thinking about the soft texture of his skin, how it felt to hold him and hear his voice, to be there  _ with _ him. If only he could go back in time, Viktor wished he could have gotten Yuuri’s phone number. 

 

But he refused to believe that he was in love, because he wasn’t. It wasn’t love, it couldn’t have been - Viktor had only spent a few hours with him. He was probably just lonely, and missed the feeling of being held in another person’s arms. Nevertheless, Viktor missed him. Even if Yuuri had been blinded by his huge consumption of alcohol, Viktor hoped that one day, maybe, they could meet again, and have twice as much fun together. 

 

It was just a wish, though.

 

He was snapped out of his small trance when his phone suddenly buzzed to life. Glancing down at the lit up screen, he saw that Yakov was calling him. Again.

 

He had been, more or less, ignoring his coach for the past few days. Ever since he accidentally let it slip out that he was considering taking a break from skating for a season, the old man had been badgering him to no end. It was, frankly, pretty stressful. Viktor hated stress.

 

He blinked, looking down at the phone as it vibrated softly. It didn’t take much to decide against answering the call, instead silencing his phone and taking a quick glance out the window to his left. There was a nice view from his local cafe - nothing extraordinary, but it was a relaxing sight. Cars rushed by down the salted roads, and pedestrians walked down sidewalks laced with a small layer of snow. A pine tree stood strong, sprinkled with snowflakes. 

 

After the call attempt ended, Viktor picked his phone up, clicking into Instagram and dragging his finger along the screen. Nothing interesting was going on; everyone was training, preparing for the upcoming season. Something that Viktor wasn’t doing.

 

Suddenly, he got hit with a bit of guilt. He shouldn’t ignore Yakov, it was a childish move. He couldn’t just block out the poor guy forever. Just as he was about to call back, however, his coffee arrived.

 

“Spasibo!” He enthused gratefully, taking the cup and giving the male a bright smile. After watching him scurry away to take another customer’s order, Viktor turned back to his phone. 

 

_ I’ll call him when I get home _ , he decided.

 

~ ღ ~

 

He sincerely  _ was _ going to call Yakov. Yet, after walking Makkachin and falling onto the couch to relax, he took out his phone and was greeted with something… Odd. In the short time he had left his phone on the sofa, his notifications had legitimately exploded. With what, you may be wondering?

 

A video. All the same video, in fact. People tagging him in posts with the link, multiple skaters and friends PM-ing it to him. Even Chris had sent it to him, for fuck’s sake. Warily, he clicked into Chris’s message to read the entire thing. 

 

_ “You’re going to want to watch this, Vik.” _

 

Viktor blinked, staring at the screen blankly. He couldn’t doubt Chris and his judgement; he knew the things Viktor was interested in. So, curiosity getting the best of him, he clicked the attachment. 

 

_ 【Katsuki Yuuri】Tried to Skate Viktor’s FS Program【Stay Close to Me】 _

 

He stared at it blankly for a moment. Was this…  _ Real _ ? It certainly looked real. He decided to click the  _ play _ button, biting at the inside of his mouth as the music began. 

 

Just as the first few notes played, just as he began to move, Viktor saw  _ something _ . Something alike to talent, ability…  _ Potential _ .

 

He knew the program by heart. After all, it had been his own self-choreographed free skate - one that he had, in fact, won gold with. Yet, the moment the music began, the moment that Yuuri had begun to glide along the ice, Viktor knew. Viktor knew that the ravenette, with the correct guidance, could make history. It was like his fluid movements were what composed the piece; he wasn’t following along to the music, but the music was following him. 

 

_ Beautiful _ was the only word Viktor could decode from his jumbled thoughts. Yuuri was stunning, incredible - but anyone with a keen eye for figure skating could see that this wasn’t even his best. Oh,  _ no _ , this was no where close to his full potential. Viktor wanted to watch this alluring male grow - he wanted to see Yuuri become his greatest, which would surely be a treat for the eyes.

 

To think that this embodiment of grace was the same man who had gotten absolutely wasted at a party only a year prior… It was almost laughable. Yet it was most definitely the same person - even Viktor could tell. 

 

Right at that moment, watching his phone closely, studying the skaters fluid movements, Viktor had made a decision. Whether it was intelligently thought out or a rash, impulsive decision, he couldn’t tell. But he did know that, for him, it was the best choice he had. The most worthwhile, for himself, Yuuri, and even Makkachin.

 

Though, he was also fully aware of how utterly pissed Yakov would be when he broke the news to him. And so, deciding on a bit of a whim, Viktor decided to call Yakov after the video came to an end. He would break it to his coach over the phone - that way, in his fit of rage, Yakov could do nothing but deafen Viktor a bit with his yelling. Which, obviously, the silver-haired male was used to. 

 

Observing the final movements of the program, Viktor mentally noted a few pros and cons of Yuuri’s skating. On the plus side, his movement was extremely smooth, and his launches into the jumps were practically flawless. On the other hand, though, he seemed to be almost hesitant a second before he pushed himself off the ice and into a jump. Almost like he was doubting himself for that split second. Yet again, however, he seemed in touch with the program emotion wise, his step sequences were unique and eye catching, and his spins were extremely well executed. 

 

The pros definitely outweighed the cons. Viktor didn’t dare to take his eyes away from the video, not until Yuuri striked the final pose. Even then he still examined the male staring up above, watching the heave of his chest as he desperately caught his breath. Then, you could hear a feminine voice squealing for two seconds before the recording ends abruptly. 

 

A feminine voice? So then… A female must have been watching Yuuri skate, then. Viktor was almost jealous; she was able to see him in person. She was given practically a private performance. He didn’t understand why that thought bothered him - he had only spent a night with Yuuri, therefore barely knew him - but it did. 

 

Though, now was not the time for him to mull over that. He had to call Yakov. So he dialed the old man’s number quickly, and wasn’t surprised when he immediately picked up. 

 

He was prepared to get scolded big time.

 

~ ღ ~

 

Despite being very, _ very _ annoyed with Viktor, Yakov had still driven him to the airport, being the good father-figure he was. During the entire ride he tried to sway the skaters decision, yet failed. Viktor tried to comfort the old man.  _ Tried _ . It didn’t exactly work out, for he still looked extremely disappointed anyways. Giving his last farewell, Viktor disappeared onto the plane.

 

He didn’t regret a single thing. 

 

Arriving at Karatsu Station would undoubtedly take a long time; which gave Viktor the opportunity to think and plan. He vaguely remembered Yuuri slurring about hot springs - so he was fairly certain that Yuuri lived, and probably worked, at one. And the ravenette had also requested Viktor come to Hasetsu to coach him - therefore it was pretty obvious where he was. 

 

Now, onto the next matter of business; what exactly would he do once he arrived? Sure, they had already met, but that was a pretty informal meeting. Should he reintroduce himself informally, then? It sounded like a pretty good idea. 

 

Viktor decided to choose what he would do later. For now, he just wanted to sleep. 


End file.
